


A Tenuous Alliance

by platinum_firebird



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Politics, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-18 11:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21275198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinum_firebird/pseuds/platinum_firebird
Summary: To fend off the possibility of Telmarine invasion, Edmund agrees to marry Caspian, Crown Prince of Telmar...
Relationships: Caspian/Edmund Pevensie
Comments: 16
Kudos: 496
Collections: Multifandom Tropefest 2019





	A Tenuous Alliance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dissembler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dissembler/gifts).

The night was perfect - clear and warm, full of the music of the sea rolling in against the beach far below. It was the kind of night Edmund would usually have spent dancing and drinking and singing songs, or strolling down the beach under the light of the full moon.

Instead, the four of them were holed up in one of the highest rooms of the castle, all waiting for someone else to be the first to speak.

Peter and Susan sat opposite each other at the small table, a goblet of wine in front of each, neither of which they had touched. Lucy had taken up position on a small chaise lounge, her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyes flicking between the two at the table and Edmund where he stood leaning against the window casement.

Edmund sighed, and said into the silence, “Before one of us nobly volunteers to fall on his or her sword, I think we’d best decide if we actually want this alliance or not.”

“We certainly don’t want war,” Lucy said, biting her lip.

“The war in Calormen isn’t going as well as the Telmarines hoped,” Peter said, “It might be that the Telmarines are seeking an alliance with us in order to pressure us into joining the war on their side.”

“So you’re suggesting we say no?” Susan asked.

“But if the Telmarines win the war with Calormen, they might turn their eyes to Narnia next,” Edmund said.

“They might do that whether their prince is married to one of us or not,” Peter said.

“Their prince is the only successor to the Telmarine throne,” Susan pointed out, “If we have him, he’s a bargaining chip.”

“That assumes the prince will move to Narnia. It might be they expect one of us to go to Telmar,” Edmund said.

“And then that one would be the bargaining chip against the rest of us,” Lucy said, sounding worried.

“We’re definitely not taking that option,” Peter said, dredging up a reassuring smile to send her way.

“Even if the prince moves here, he’ll have to go back to Telmar eventually,” Edmund said. “Princes become Kings, after all, and he can’t rule Telmar from Narnia.”

“His father seems to think he can rule Telmar from Calormen,” Peter said darkly.

“Maybe if he stays here, then by the time he has to go back to Telmar to be king, he’ll love Narnia so much that he couldn’t possibly think of invading,” Lucy said hopefully.

There was a moment of silence. “It’s idealistic, but…” Susan spread her hands, “Maybe if we had time to befriend him? Show him that Narnia and Telmar would be better off as allies?”

“That all depends on whether Caspian the tenth enjoys conquest as much as Caspian the ninth,” Edmund said.

Peter let out a long, heavy sigh. “I think we can all agree,” he said, “that having King Caspian’s only son here would be an advantage against a Telmarine invasion. And that refusing to ally with them now might hurt us in the long run, if they do manage to conquer Calormen. But, we can’t agree to any of us being sent to Telmar, because we’ll just end up a bargaining chip in their hands.”

“That about sums it up,” Susan said.

Edmund steeled himself before saying, “I think we should do it.”

They all turned to him. “You do?” Lucy asked.

“Yes. Offer one of us, make it a condition that Caspian comes to live here.” Edmund shrugged. “See what they say. Even if they refuse, at least we show we’re willing to entertain the idea of an alliance rather than rebuffing them outright.”

After a long moment Peter said heavily, “Agreed. Su?”

“Yes,” Susan said. “What about you, Lucy?”

“I agree,” Lucy said quietly.

Another long, awkward silence ensued before Edmund said, “Shall we draw straws?”

“Ed,” Peter growled, clearly uncomfortable with this whole idea.

“It can’t be Lucy,” Susan said, “She’s too young.” Edmund and Peter both nodded. Usually Lucy would have protested being called ‘too young’ for anything, but this time she remained conspicuously silent.

“I say this only because other people think it, not because I want him to get an overinflated sense of his own worth - but the most ‘desirable’ match would be the High King,” Edmund said, grinning when Peter levelled an exasperated look at him.

“Are you saying Peter should or shouldn’t be the one, then?” Susan asked.

“Shouldn’t. This is a new alliance, and we’re not even sure they’re genuine. Save Peter’s marriage for someone we actually want to honour.”

“That leaves you and me,” Susan said.

“Right you are.” After a beat he said, “Rock paper scissors?”

That at least wrung a smile from everyone. “If only it were so simple,” Peter muttered.

“Well, we have to decide somehow,” Edmund said. “There must be some reason why one or other of us would be better.”

“You can’t have children,” Susan said suddenly.

Peter and Edmund both turned to stare at her. “What?”

“If this alliance does break down, the marriage will go with it. Having children involved would only make that more complicated.” She grimaced. “Sorry, Ed.”

Edmund did his best to shrug casually, though his stomach felt like he’d eaten gone-off cream. “It had to be one of us.”

“All agreed, then?” Peter asked, and was answered by three murmurs of ‘yes’. He fixed Edmund with a heavy, serious look. “You’re sure, Ed? We can say no.”

For a second Edmund hesitated, feeling snakes of worry twist and slither in his stomach. This was the last moment to back out - or he’d end up married to a Telmarine prince.

But he’d offered - had come into this room prepared to face this as a possible outcome - and it made sense. “I’m sure,” he said. The others nodded, and the mood in the room was so heavy as to be oppressive. Edmund thought he could almost feel the shift as the course of his fate switched tracks, setting him on a new, unknown path.

“I’m sorry it had to be any of us,” Peter said, getting to his feet. “I wish we could just marry for love.”

“That’s what you get for signing up to be King,” Susan said, a slight smile curving her lips as she too rose to her feet.

“Yes.” He raised his head to look at Edmund. “But thank you, Ed. For volunteering.”

“I think I was coerced, actually. I should probably complain,” Edmund said, covering his uneasiness with humour. The realisation that they were about to go back downstairs and answer the Telmarine ambassador in the affirmative, giving him Edmund’s name as their candidate to be married, was starting to sink in. He’d known that one day he’d likely have to enter a political marriage, but this was happening now.

“You can still back out,” Peter said. “At least until we get out of this room, anyway.”

“But if I backed out we’d have to start debating again, and I’d much rather be on the beach.” Edmund grinned as he passed Peter and reached the door.

That, at least, would soothe the nerves twisting in his gut.

/

Caspian had hoped, when he received word that his uncle wanted to meet him in his study, that he might have news of his father. When he entered the bright, sunny room, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sheaf of parchment sitting on the desk in front of Miraz. “Is it news? Of father?” he asked, coming to stand behind the chair that sat across from Miraz.

His uncle motioned for him to sit down. “No - but it is potentially far more important.” When Caspian frowned at him, he continued, “Three weeks ago I sent an ambassador to the land of Narnia.”

“Narnia? But I thought-”

“Yes, originally Narnia was to be part of the wider Telmarine kingdom. That was before things…got bogged down in Calormen.” Miraz’s smile was bitter. “Now, we find ourselves in need of allies.”

“Did they receive the ambassador?” Caspian asked, trying not to seem too eager. If they could forge an alliance with Narnia, then maybe a royal visit wouldn’t be out of the question. To finally be able to see the land his nurse had described so vividly, to meet the people of whom she’d told such wonderful stories… Caspian felt a kernel of hope flare in his chest.

“They did. They welcomed him, in fact - and agreed to my proposal.”

“Your proposal?” Caspian prompted.

Miraz let out a little chuckle. “Your proposal, more like.”

Caspian just about stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Please, uncle. What did you ask them?”

“I suggested that perhaps a union of our two royal houses could take place,” Miraz said. “They seem most amenable to the idea.”

It was like Miraz had dumped a bucket of cold water over Caspian’s head. “You… offered a marriage alliance?”

“Indeed - and they’ve accepted. You’ll be leaving in a week.”

“A week,” Caspian repeated, his voice flat and dull.

“These things must move fast, my boy. We must strike while the iron is hot!” Miraz was grinning like a cat, clearly very pleased with himself. “Remember, you must make a good impression on them, Caspian. You’re there to make them our allies. That’s your only concern, do you understand?”

“Yes, uncle,” Caspian said woodenly.

“Good. Now, go; you have to pack, and get fitted for wedding clothes. It’s a lot to fit into one week.”

Caspian stood, feeling numb. Almost without meaning to he asked, “Does my father know about this?”

“You think I’d offer his only son in marriage without his agreement?” Miraz asked, an edge to his voice.

Caspian blinked. “No, I- No. Sorry, uncle.” He took a few steps toward the door, then paused. “Uncle - there are four monarchs of Narnia. To who-?”

“Ah, yes.” Miraz looked back at the parchment on his desk. “King Edmund. I hope that’s satisfactory?” he added, raising an eyebrow.

Caspian managed a nod before fleeing the room. Doctor Cornelius was waiting outside, and he stood hurriedly on seeing Caspian’s expression. “My prince? What’s wrong?”

It took a moment before Caspian could speak. “I’m to be married,” he said quietly.

“Ah. Well, it does often come as a shock-”

“To the King of Narnia,” Caspian added.

That made even Cornelius blink. “That is…unexpected.” He smiled a little. “But, you have been wanting to go to Narnia since you were a small child, have you not? This will be your chance.”

As always when he talked to his beloved tutor, the turmoil brought on by his uncle seemed to lessen as Cornelius’ words made an impact. “Yes, it will.” Caspian took a deep breath. “It will, and that will be wonderful. Even if I do have to get married to see it.”

“Well, getting married isn’t so bad, in the end,” Cornelius said, putting a hand on Caspian’s shoulder to guide him back to his rooms. “And if you are to marry the King, you must live with him in the castle at Cair Paravel. They say it is the most beautiful castle in all the lands, overlooking the beach…”

“And the glittering sea,” Caspian finished, the familiar words bringing a small smile to his face. “I remember.”

Cornelius squeezed his shoulder. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “You’ll see; before you know it, you shall be right at home in the land of Narnia.”

/

Edmund pulled on the hem of his tunic one more time before sighing at the mirror. “I think this is the best it’s going to be,” he said.

His servant, a gentle-natured faun called Volnus, clasped his hands and smiled. “It’s very becoming, sire.”

“Thanks,” Edmund said, trying not to sound too glum. It was a very fine green tunic, edged with gold embroidery, but he was dressing to make a favourable impression on his future husband, and now nothing he owned seemed good enough. “Let’s try the green surcoat with it, then. The darker one.”

It was almost sunset by the time Edmund was finally dressed, and by that point he was running late. Susan had arrived and started chivying him along, reminding him that Prince Caspian was expected any moment, and the best clothes in the world wouldn’t make a good impression if he was late.

Luckily for him, Prince Caspian’s party did not arrive at sunset as expected. The sky was fading into muted pinks and blues by the time Edmund reached the entrance hall, where his other siblings were waiting, Lucy perched on a bench with a book and Peter pacing restlessly back and forth at the top of the steps. “You look more nervous than me,” Edmund joked, hoping to hide the fact that his insides felt like water.

“I am nervous,” Peter admitted, dragging a hand through his hair. “If anything happens to Prince Caspian, we’ll be blamed for it.”

“He’s only an hour late at most,” Susan said mildly.

“I didn’t say it was a rational worry,” Peter said.

Edmund went over to the bench and sat down next to Lucy, trying not to fiddle with his clothes. “I feel like a ten year old again,” he admitted.

“You look almost as green as your tunic,” Lucy observed.

Edmund rolled his eyes. “Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“He won’t be that bad, I’m sure,” Lucy said, setting her book to the side.

“You’re an optimist, Lu. You’re naturally disposed to think he won’t be too bad.”

“Maybe,” she said. She was giving him a knowing smile. “But I have a feeling.”

“Of course you do,” Edmund said, raising one eyebrow at her, but no matter how much he pushed, she wouldn’t elaborate. Needling her did distract him from his growing nerves, though, and it actually came as a surprise when he heard the clatter of horses arriving in the courtyard. Which, he thought as he stood, might have been Lucy’s intention all along.

Peter was already standing side by side with Susan at the head of the steps; as they both rose, Lucy took his hand. “Ready?” she asked.

Not able to find words, Edmund just nodded. Her hand in his was a comfort as they made their way over to stand next to their brother and sister.

The courtyard was a mess of Narnians and Telmarines and their horses, all talking and shouting and moving about, such a chaos and press of bodies that it was impossible to make out the Telmarine prince for several minutes. Then a tall figure emerged from the crowd and stopped at the foot of the steps; Edmund thought he saw a flash of nervousness cross the prince’s face as he beheld them, but then he seemed to gather himself, and began advancing toward them. When he finally stood in front of them, he stopped and bowed deeply. “Greetings and honour, Kings and Queens of Narnia. Thank you for welcoming me into your land. I am Prince Caspian.”

Peter returned his bow, then stepped forward to clasp his forearm. “Welcome to Narnia. I am High King Peter.” One by one, he introduced the rest of them, and one by one they clasped Caspian’s forearm and exchanged bows; and then, last of all, it was Edmund’s turn. He clasped Caspian’s arm, feeling himself turn red, and knew he ought to say something. “Er… nice to meet you,” he said, the inane greeting popping out before he even thought about it. He swore he heard Lucy muffle a giggle.

Caspian, though, seemed somewhat reassured by it. “It is good to meet you too,” he said, and his smile, though nervous, seemed genuine. He did not seem, at least on first meeting, like the angry, conquest-hungry Telmarine prince Edmund had been dreading.

There was a beat of awkward silence before Caspian said, “I have brought an escort with me from Telmar; most will go back after the wedding, but I hope it will not be too much trouble to house them until then.”

“Of course not; we’ve made arrangements for a large party. They’ll be hosted in the east wing, we’ve several rooms prepared. And the men and horses will find comfortable lodging in the barracks and stables,” Peter said, seeming more comfortable now he was back on solid ground.

“Shall we move inside?” Susan suggested, and everyone agreed with relief.

From there on Susan took the reins, leading them through the entrance hall and along the procession-way to the Great Hall. The sun had all but disappeared, so the great window behind the four thrones was dull and dark, but lanterns glittered in every nook and cranny, tucked away in alcoves and strung like fireflies along the balconies above, making the whole room sparkle. “It’s wonderful,” Caspian murmured, staring up at it. Edmund was tempted to ask if it was better than Telmar, but held his tongue; he wasn’t sure his usual sense of humour would go over as cheeky rather than insulting.

Soon afterward they showed Caspian to his guest chambers, part of a whole suite of rooms in the east wing of the castle, more than large enough for the contingent of Telmarines he’d brought with him. He bid them goodnight with a smile, an expression that lingered in Edmund’s memory as the four of them retired to a balcony overlooking the sea.

“That went well,” Lucy said, hopping up onto the balcony railing. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“It did,” Peter said, the words coming out as a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto a nearby bench.

“He seems nice,” Susan observed blandly. Then she raised her eyebrows. “Or at least, he’s willing to pretend.”

“And he’s handsome,” Lucy said in a loud stage-whisper, her grin turning sly.

Edmund shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “He’s not terrible,” he said eventually.

“What a glowing assessment,” Susan said, giving him a look.

“It’s hard to judge, alright? I’ve been with him for what, two hours at most?” Edmund flopped down onto one of the other benches. “This is stranger than I thought it would be.”

“I thought the royal visits we had before were awkward,” Lucy said.

“One of us wasn’t marrying our visitor then,” Susan said, the corner of her lip lifting a little. “Speaking of, how are preparations going?”

“It’s all being handled,” Edmund said, trying to suppress a shudder. He’d spent the entirety of the last four weeks engulfed in marriage preparations, picking everything from flowers and food to clothes and music. The official Master of Festivities, an outspoken dwarven woman by the name of Nelse, was a force to be reckoned with, and under her guiding hand the event was coming together faster than Edmund would have thought possible.

“I suppose the Prince will want some time to settle in before the wedding,” Lucy said.

“He’ll get a week,” Edmund said, “Everything is being organised for a week Tuesday, and I value my life far too much to suggest to Nelse that I might want to move the date. My fiancé is welcome to try to persuade her otherwise, but he’ll likely think better of it once he meets her.”

The others laughed; having planned other events with Nelse’s help, they were well aware of her temperament. “But you have to admit,” Peter said after a moment, “he doesn’t actually seem that bad. In fact, I feel I might even grow to like him.”

“Yes,” Edmund said quietly, “I feel much the same.”

/

High King Peter was as good as his word; the accommodations provided for his men were more than sufficient, and when Caspian saw the huge, soft bed in his quarters, he nearly groaned aloud. Two weeks of hard travel, sleeping on the ground more often than not, had him longing for a good night’s sleep.

It wasn’t to be, however; there was a knock on the door as soon as he’d removed his boots. Caspian considered not answering it, but then considered that it might be his hosts, and made his way to the door.

Doctor Cornelius was waiting outside. “I must take a moment of your time, my prince. I’m afraid it cannot wait.”

Caspian stepped back to let him in. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so.” Cornelius waited until the door was closed, then turned to face Caspian, his expression grave. “My prince, first I must say that I am sorry I could not mention this earlier. Your uncle has listening ears everywhere, and this is much too dangerous a subject to bring up on the road or within the walls of his castle.”

Caspian gestured him over to the chairs and table laid out in one corner of the room. “It involves my uncle, then?”

Cornelius nodded. He sat down, and seemed to take a moment to compose himself before saying, “Caspian, I am sorry to have to tell you this, and even sorrier that it is, as far as I believe, the truth; but I believe your uncle has plans to usurp your rightful place as King of Telmar.”

For a moment Caspian said nothing, too shocked to respond. “My uncle… he wants to be King?”

“Everything I’ve observed leads me to believe this is the case. You do not know this, but days before your uncle sent the ambassador here to Narnia, the Royal Physician informed your aunt that her pregnancy is going better than any she has had previously. There is a real chance that she will bring the baby to full term, and that it will not be still born - which would be a blessing, were it not for Miraz’s ambition.”

Caspian felt suddenly sick. “And if it is a son- with a son of his own…”

“He will have an heir. You think it is a coincidence that Miraz - who has before shown no desire to broker alliances with other nations, may I remind you - decided, mere days after such positive news about his wife’s pregnancy, to propose a marriage that would see his nephew sent to a distant land, where anything might happen to him?”

“You mean…?”

“I believe that Miraz’s plan, should his wife give birth to a son, is to have you assassinated.” Cornelius was silent a moment, allowing that to sink in. “No doubt he will make it seem that the Narnians are the culprits, thus giving Telmar an excuse to invade.”

“This…” Caspian stood up, pacing toward the closed balcony doors and back. “This cannot be true. I have never doubted your word, Doctor, but this is my uncle. He may disagree with my father at times, but…”

Cornelius looked apologetic. “Your father did not want you to know the true extent of the animosity between them. In truth, your father and Lord Miraz have not often seen eye to eye, and their relationship has never been harmonious. Your father’s decision to leave Miraz behind in Telmar while he prosecuted the war in Calormen was the final straw, I believe.”

Caspian sat down heavily. “I don’t want to believe you, Doctor. But you have never lied to me before.”

“Would that I were lying now. I may yet be wrong - and if Miraz’s child is not born, then perhaps he will make no move against you. But the timing is too suspicious to ignore, as is the fact that Miraz has sent his brother’s only son far away to a land we are not entirely sure we can trust. You are the only heir to the Telmarine throne, while the Narnians have four monarchs; would it not have made more sense for one of them to come to Telmar? And yet Miraz insisted you came here.”

“I did wonder - but any question about the marriage seemed to vex him greatly,” Caspian said. A cold pit was forming in his stomach. “Maybe I should have realised- he was so defencive about it-”

“You could not have known, my prince,” Cornelius said.

Caspian sighed, and both of them fell silent for a long minute. Caspian sat with his head bent forward, staring at his interlaced hands. “Does my father know?” he asked quietly.

“I believe he does not. I do not think he would have agreed to this marriage, had he known about it; that is why Miraz went about it with such haste.”

“Then I will have to leave,” Caspian said, half-rising from his chair.

“Wait! My prince, not so fast.” Cornelius motioned him back into his seat. “We must be cautious. Miraz has sent some of his best men as part of your entourage, and no doubt they will be watching the entrances and exits from this room closely. They will certainly prevent you if you attempt to leave.”

“If they can watch the door, surely they may listen at it also,” Caspian said, rising once more.

“They may try,” Cornelius said dismissively. “The old legends say that Cair Paravel’s rooms are well defended against eavesdroppers, and from my experiments earlier today, I assure you they spoke truly. No one outside of this room will hear us.”

“Magic?” Caspian asked, hesitating.

“I believe so. This castle is steeped in it, right down to the foundations. I imagine there are many other strange and wonderful things to discover here.”

Slowly, Caspian sat back down. “So, I cannot leave without getting past my uncle’s guards, all of whom will be here until the wedding.”

“I do not think you should attempt to escape this wedding, my prince; in fact I think it may be to your advantage. In the absence of your father, you will need allies to stand with you against your uncle, and you will not find them among his men or anyone now at the Telmarine court.”

“But the Narnians will help me?” Caspian asked.

“They have a vested interest in seeing that Miraz does not become King,” Cornelius pointed out.

“That’s true.” Caspian sighed. “I cannot help but think that we should get a message to my father. Is there no one among my escort that we might trust?”

“Not with a mission like that, my prince. But again, maybe our Narnian friends will be able to help us. Some of their citizens may go where humans may not, and blend in where a Telmarine would stand out. Perhaps they would be able to get a message to your father and warn him of Miraz’s potential treachery.”

“That would be a lot to ask a new and still tentative ally.”

“Exactly - which is why it’s imperative that you win them over to your side.”

Caspian nodded. “I… I think I can do that. They seem… nice.”

“Well, you have three months until Prunaprismia gives birth. I’d suggest you use that time wisely - and by that I mean making friends.”

Caspian gave him a humourless smile. “Not my forté, doctor.”

“You simply lack practise, my prince. Given time and effort, I am sure the five of you will be fast friends.” Cornelius stood. “Now, I should not keep you from your bed any longer. Remember, tomorrow you are meeting with King Edmund and the Master of Festivities to go over the details of the wedding.”

“So soon?” Caspian asked.

Cornelius laughed. “The wedding is in a week, my prince.” At Caspian’s shocked look, he added, “The Narnians do not have long engagements as is the Telmarine custom. When they decide to get married, they see no point in wasting time.”

“I see,” Caspian said, a little unnerved. He had assumed he’d have a while to rest and settle into the pace of life here in Narnia, to explore his new surroundings; instead it seemed he was about to be thrown in at the deep end of Narnian politics as King Edmund’s official royal consort. “At least you told me about this now. It would have been embarrassing to be shocked by this news tomorrow.”

“I will endevour to help you in any way I can, my prince, always,” Cornelius said, smiling fondly at him. “Now, please get some rest. Goodnight.”

Caspian bid the Doctor goodnight, and changed into his bedclothes as soon as the door shut behind him. But though the bed was luxuriously, almost criminally comfortable, it was a very long time before he was able to sleep.

/

The next day started early and finished late, and by the end of it Caspian’s brain was whirling with fabrics and menus and flowers. All of it had been presented by the Master of Festivities, Nelse, in a manner which suggested the arrangements had already been made and it would be a great hassle to change them. That suited Caspian just fine; the personal and political ramifications of this wedding were much more important to him than what music the orchestra played or what colour the tablecloth was.

Now, mercifully released from the unending parade of wedding organisers, Caspian had slipped out of the great glass doors that led out of the Feasting Room and, finding a winding stair that descended from the wide balcony, had followed it down to the moonlit beach. He stood on the shore, flinging the occasional pebble into the rolling waves, letting the soft crash of sea against sand soothe his mind.

The crunch of footsteps behind him jogged him out of his reverie. He turned to see Edmund coming toward him across the beach. “Good evening,” he said politely.

Edmund nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips. He walked closer, seeming to hesitate for a second before asking, “You like the ocean?”

Caspian nodded. “I have loved the sea since I was a small child. I have always wondered what is on the other side, beyond the horizon.”

Edmund squinted as he looked out over the dark waves. “Well, Galma, somewhere. And slightly to the south you’d find Terebinthia.”

“And to the north the Seven Isles,” Caspian said, smiling slightly. “Yes; and one day I hope I might visit them. But I mean beyond that. Further beyond where anyone has gone before.” He shook his head. “As a child I used to look out from the castle walls across the bay, and wonder why no one else was curious about what they would find out there.”

When he looked back, Edmund was watching him with a curious look on his face. “It’s a good question,” he said quietly.

“Well.” Caspian turned back to the waves and flung another pebble. “Maybe one day I will have the chance to find out.”

Edmund watched him for a moment before saying, “You want to be careful doing that. You might hit a mermaid.”

Caspian froze. “There are mermaids?”

“Oh, yes. You have to be careful with them. They sing more sweetly than any creature in the world, but they’re fond of luring men to their deaths in the waves.”

Caspian blinked, staring at him. For a moment Edmund just returned his stare; then his face cracked into a grin. “I’m joking,” he said, “The mermaids are perfectly friendly.”

“But there are mermaids?”

“Yes - well, sometimes. They come and go. They’ll almost certainly be here for the wedding.” The mention of the wedding seemed to kill the formerly comfortable mood, and they both stood in silence for a minute before Edmund said, “Sorry, I came out here to tell you that they’re serving dinner up at the castle, if you’re hungry. We thought we ought to let you know.”

“Thank you,” Caspian said. He threw one last look at the sea, then turned toward the castle.

After a second Edmund fell in step beside him. “Sorry about today, as well,” he said, “It was a bit much all at once.”

“It was a little overwhelming,” Caspian admitted.

“You’ll be glad to hear that’s everything, then.”

Caspian raised an eyebrow. “No more flowers and place settings?”

“None. You have the next six days to yourself.”

That was more than a little relieving to hear, but Caspian knew he probably shouldn’t look forward to spending the next six days on the beach. He was here to both forge an alliance and become a King’s husband; he should probably spend his time getting to grips with Narnian politics.

As if he’d heard Caspian’s thoughts, Edmund said, “Tomorrow I have to make a visit to the owls in Owlwood; I wondered if you might want to join me. See some of the country and meet some of the people, that sort of thing.”

“I would love to,” Caspian said quickly.

For just a second Edmund seemed surprised - probably by how quickly Caspian had agreed - but then he said, “Well, good. That’s good. Oh, it will involve camping overnight - they have their Parliaments at night, you see. Because they’re owls.”

“I’m no stranger to camping,” Caspian said. “Talking to owls will be a little more strange.”

“Don’t worry,” Edmund assured him, “You get used to it.”

/

The next morning dawned warm and clear, but Caspian’s eager anticipation dimmed somewhat when he entered the stables and immediately beheld the concerned face of his groom. His horse, it transpired, was lame, and couldn’t be ridden today. “But there are many fine horses out in the fields yonder, m’lord,” the groom said, “and I am sure their majesties would lend you one.”

Caspian nodded. “Indeed. Have you seen King Edmund this morning?”

Edmund was soon found to be still in the castle, apparently settling some final matters with his siblings; but Caspian was introduced to the Narnian Stable Master, who led him out to a rolling field beyond the stable and spread his arm. “Do go ahead and introduce yourself, your highness,” he said, “I am sure the Royal Horses will be happy to agree to bear you to Owlwood.” Then the man turned and went back into the stable, leaving Caspian alone in the field, without a halter or any other means of catching and leading a horse. For a moment Caspian just stood, confused; then he decided to head in the direction the Stable Master had pointed, toward the knot of horses that had gathered near the middle of the field. That seemed to be what the man had indicated he should do - and maybe they were trained to come with him without the need for a halter or bridle?

They noticed him coming, and all turned their heads to stare at him in a way not at all reminiscent of the horses he’d grown up with in Telmar. It was more like walking into a room full of humans than walking up to a herd of horses.

Introduce yourself, the Stable Master had said. Suddenly, staring into their keen, intelligent eyes, Caspian had a feeling he knew why.

“Good morning,” he said politely. Despite his suspicion, he still felt like a fool.

He only felt stupid for a moment. “Hello,” one horse said, and then there was a murmur of other greetings from the herd.

Talking horses. Given all the stories he’d heard about Narnia’s talking animals, he really should have expected that.

“You must be the Telmarine prince,” one of the horses said. Caspian thought he saw all their eyes sharpen with interest.

“I am,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I am Caspian, Crown Prince of Telmar. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours,” came the reply.

“Forgive me for disturbing your morning, but my horse is lame today. I wondered if one of you might consent to…” Let me ride you? Be my steed? “Bear me to Owlwood,” he finished, settling on the wording the Stable Master had used.

The horses spent a moment making a noise that sounded somewhere between whispering and whickering; then a tall, black horse stepped forward and said, “I would be happy to be your steed for the day, your highness.”

“Thank you,” Caspian said, bowing his head. The horse bowed back, bending its foreleg in the same way Caspian had seen circus horses bow. The horse accompanied him back across the field, introducing himself as Alexander. At first Caspian worried he might have to ride bareback, but Alexander seemed content to wear saddle and bridle, though Caspian did think it prudent to enquire with the Stable Master as to how one rode a Narnian horse. ‘With as little kicking as possible’ was the answer he received, which Caspian took to mean that he should keep his directions verbal as much as he could.

He and Alexander went for a spin around the field to get Caspian used to riding a horse while giving only spoken directions, and by the time they returned to the stable, Edmund was already mounted. “Sorry about your horse,” he said, as they began down the road that led north.

“I thought I saw him limping last night, poor chap,” Edmund’s horse said, making Caspian jump.

“Well, Alexander will look after you,” Edmund said.

And look after him he did. All morning they rode through beautiful country, following the line of the coast up through field after rolling field, aiming toward the line of dark trees on the horizon. As they drew closer the forest grew ever larger, until it filled the whole of the skyline with a mass of softly shifting leaves. Just before noon they reached the wood, and Edmund called a halt. “We’ll rest here for lunch, then go on and find a suitable camping spot inside the wood. The owls won’t call the Parliament to order until midnight, so we’ll have a bit of time afterward to explore, if you like.”

Caspian agreed, and after a refreshing lunch, they spent a half hour searching for and setting up their campsite. Once everything was done, Edmund said, “Well, our choice is between the beach and the wood.”

Caspian’s usual instinct would have been the beach; but the woods around them were bright and full of life, the dappled sunlight from above mixing with the cool shadows under the trees to create an inviting air of mystery. It seemed the wood was beckoning to them, just inviting them to explore. “My vote is for the wood,” he said.

“Good, because that would be my vote too.”

Caspian had never had much opportunity to be a woodsman. The area around the Telmarine capital was not particularly wooded, and he had never been allowed to stray much beyond Telmar City and its immediate surroundings. Thus the wood was new and wonderful to him; the calls of birds and animals, the rustle of leaves, the smell of earth and rot and fresh life. They wandered for several hours, and by the end of it Caspian realised he was utterly lost. “I hope you know the way back to camp,” he said.

Neither of them had spoken for what felt like hours, and it seemed to take Edmund a moment to register human speech again. “Ah. Yes, I do, don’t worry.”

“I have no idea how one keeps their bearings in forest such as this,” Caspian said.

“It’s a finely honed art.” Edmund was looking up at the sky between the branches of the trees. “One I should start employing, I think, if we want to be back in time to meet the owls.”

“Lead on,” Caspian said.

He had not thought it possible that Edmund could really know which way would lead them back to their camp, but he lead them unerringly, straight as an arrow back through the trees. When they arrived at their camp, Edmund took in Caspian’s expression of surprise and smiled. “Dryads,” he said by way of explanation. “They’d teach you too, if you wanted to learn.”

“I would be honoured,” Caspian said.

“Later then. For now, dinner.”

Over their meal, Edmund explained the rough shape and disposition of the owls’ grievances. “It is, in short, an argument over nesting space,” he said. “The owls want certain trees; but the crows would also like to make their nests in those trees. We must mediate between the two sides.” His lips quirked up. “I imagine it sounds a little different from Telmarine politics.”

Caspian shrugged. “Not so different. Land disputes are very common in Telmar. For example, much of my father’s time was taken up once with the case of two noble families who both wanted to build their townhouses on the same piece of land within the city. Eventually he forced them to come to an agreement without declaring a feud, though their relations have been cool ever since.”

“I suppose that is similar.”

“Though I imagine with owls, the issue is not whose home is closest to the pleasure harbour,” Caspian said.

“No - more about sheltering branches and access to the best insects, I suspect.”

After the meal, they saddled the horses again and left the clearing on a trail that Caspian couldn’t make out, until they arrived under a huge tree that stood a little apart from all the others. Caspian could see no sign of habitation, but Edmund swung down from his saddle, so Caspian followed suit. “We’ll call for you when we’re ready, Philip,” Edmund said, and his horse nodded before wandering off to investigate a patch of ferns nearby.

With Alexander seeming content to follow him, Caspian turned to Edmund. “Now what?”

Edmund gave him a sly grin, and pointed upward. “You didn’t think we’d find owls on the ground, did you?”

Caspian looked up at the huge tree and grimaced. “Right. Well, after you.”

Edmund scrambled up the tree with almost supernatural ease - as if he’d done it before, which he certainly had, Caspian thought, as he followed rather more slowly up behind him. It was hard, especially in the dark, so it took several long minutes before Caspian hauled himself up onto a wide bough and came face to face with a large owl.

He started, grabbing at nearby branches, and felt a hand catch his arm. “Careful,” Edmund’s voice said.

“Thanks,” Caspian breathed, pointedly not looking at the ground.

“Welcome, your majesty, your highness,” the owl said solemnly. “The Parliament has gathered above, if you are ready to ascend?”

“Of course,” Edmund said, while Caspian tried to hide a grimace at the thought of climbing higher in the tree.

The owl spread his wings and glided off the branch, disappearing into the darkness, and Edmund said under his breath, “This part is easier; just follow where I climb.”

Caspian nodded his thanks, and set off after Edmund as the other began to climb yet further into the great tree. This section was a little easier, owing to the profusion of huge boughs arrayed around them, and in seemingly no time Caspian had pulled himself up onto another big bough. When he looked up, he realised that every bough and branch around them was groaning under the weigh of several large owls - all of whom had their attention fixed on Edmund and Caspian. There was much rustling and soft murmuring as the owls stared down at them, but Edmund seemed unconcerned, simply adjusting his position on the branch so he was sitting more comfortably.

One large, regal owl, their plumage a striking white and grey, hopped down to the branch in front of Edmund, and the assembly quietened. “Order! Order! With the King in attendance, I hereby bring this Parliament to order!”

What followed was only partially comprehensible to Caspian. Over the course of an hour and with the help of several speakers, the owls put forward their case, and their reasoning for claiming the right to make their nests in certain trees. Many names and past events were referenced with which Caspian was not familiar, but in the end he thought he could say with some certainty that the owls were arguing that the right of settlement in certain trees was theirs because of their having made their nests in these particular trees for years. The crows, by their account, were interlopers, and should be content with their own trees rather than stealing those belonging to owls.

“And thus, you have heard our case,” the white owl concluded. “And we hope that, upon hearing the case of the crows, you will decide in our favour, your majesty.”

“I am meeting with the crows in three days time, and will need a certain period of deliberation afterwards,” Edmund said, “But be assured that you will have your decision within the week.”

This seemed satisfactory for the owls, and a storm of murmuring and whispering overtook the Parliament. Caspian took this to mean that the meeting was over, especially when the white owl hopped closer to Edmund and said, “We all thank you, your majesty, for taking the time to listen to our case.”

“I consider it my honour to be trusted to mediate in this case between you and the crows, Starwing,” Edmund said.

Starwing bowed her head. “You do us honour, King Edmund. Now we must keep you no longer; we know Sons of Adam do not enjoy staying up until morning as owls do.” Then she bowed her head toward Caspian as well. “And thank you, Prince Caspian, for attending on us.”

“It is my honour,” Caspian murmured; and then before he knew it Edmund was urging him back down the tree, and he was entirely focused on not missing a hand or foothold in the dark and falling to the hard ground below.

When his feet were once more safely on the forest floor, he said, “Thank you, for allowing me to attend that.”

“No problem,” Edmund said, smiling. “It’ll be good for the people of Narnia to see you taking an interest in things. Besides, the owls will like the fact that two royal personages attended their Parliament.”

Edmund, it seemed, approved of Caspian taking an interest in Narnian politics. That suggested he was taking this alliance seriously at least - which meant Caspian might be in luck when he finally revealed Miraz’s true nature. The thought brought him a surge of hope that lightened his mood as they made their way back through the dark forest to the campsite.

/

The next week passed far too quickly for Caspian’s liking. He was taken on a very in-depth tour of Cair Paravel and visited some of the lands nearby, went with Edmund to the Council of Crows to hear their side of the nesting argument, and generally tried to grow accustomed to Narnian culture. He thought he’d made some good progress, and Doctor Cornelius’ smile as he entered the room on the morning of the wedding seemed to indicate the same. “I think they’re warming to you already, my prince,” he said, straightening Caspian’s collar a little.

“At least enough to involve me in small political matters,” Caspian said.

“It is the same sort of thing I might have advised you to do, had positions been reversed. Knowledge of Narnian land disputes would not be terribly useful to any invading army, but they are an important part of ruling. They clearly wanted to see how seriously you would take the affair.”

Caspian nodded. “That was my assumption.”

“I believe you passed their assessment with flying colours.” Cornelius stepped back and looked at him a moment before smiling. “And you look wonderful today, my prince. Everything is turning out in our favour.”

“I hope that is so, doctor. I hope that is so.” Caspian sighed and looked in the mirror one last time. “I am ready.”

The marriage was set to be a lavish, day-long affair, the first part of which was the actual marriage ceremony. He and Edmund would walk down the two outside edges of the Great Hall before meeting in the middle and saying their vows; then, as a couple, they would walk back out of the hall to the balcony above the courtyard, where hundreds of Narnians were waiting to cheer their marriage.

Caspian knew the plan well, having gone over it several times with Nelse in the previous week. He knew what to expect at every step - or thought he did, at least.

What he did not expect was to enter the Great Hall and see the intimidatingly majestic figure of a huge lion waiting for him up by the four thrones.

He would have stopped walking out of pure shock, had it not been for a quick prod in the back administered by Lucy, who was walking behind him. “He’s here to officiate,” she hissed under her breath, which, Caspian reflected, did make sense. He kept walking, his knees like water, until he reached the front of the room, until he was standing before the dais with Edmund’s hands enfolded in his, the magnificent golden coat of Aslan so close he could have reached out and touched it.

“Beloved friends,” Aslan rumbled, his deep voice raising a shiver across Caspian’s skin, “We have gathered in this place today to celebrate with glad hearts the wedding of our beloved King Edmund to our new and dear friend, Prince Caspian.”

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur, and before Caspian knew it they were walking back down the Great Hall, Narnians smiling and clapping on all sides as they went by, and then they were out in the dazzling sunshine of the balcony, where the roar of the crowd as they stepped into the light was like a physical blow.

The rest of the day was a whirl of bright colour and lights, full of music and dancing and so much food Caspian thought he would burst. Those of his people who thought Narnia a backward, savage land would have had to eat their words upon seeing the beauty and wonder of this day, he thought. In fact, Caspian was sure some members of his entourage were having their own prejudices about Narnia thoroughly disabused just by looking about them.

Edmund found him on one of the balconies as the sun was going down. “Too much?” he asked, nodding back at the party inside.

Caspian nodded. “I needed a little air.”

“I start to feel the same, after a while.” When Caspian looked back at Edmund, he found the other watching him with an almost shrewd look on his face. “Do you find Narnian traditions strange?” he asked.

“A little,” Caspian admitted. “In Telmar, the actual ceremony of the wedding is much more serious. No laughing or smiling. All the joy and celebration comes after the wedding.”

Edmund nodded slowly. “Narnians aim to make joy and happiness a part of everything in life,” he said, “That’s why the White Witch’s reign affected them so. They were made, I think, to be happy.”

“And that’s why you’re here,” Caspian said, “To make that possible. To protect them.”

“Aslan never said as much, but that’s how I see it.”

It was a noble purpose, and it touched something inside Caspian, resonated with him. Doctor Cornelius’ words of a week ago echoed in his head; it’s imperative that you win them over to your side. Maybe, if Edmund and his siblings were truly as noble and honourable as they seemed, that wouldn’t be so hard.

Edmund’s attention had turned back to the Great Hall. “They’re about to raise the wedding toast,” he said, standing straighter. “Since it’s our wedding, I don’t think it would be wise to miss it.”

“No,” Caspian agreed. As they started for the balcony doors he asked, “What will we toast to?”

“Whatever we choose,” Edmund said. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Caspian nodded. “New beginnings - and new friends.”


End file.
